


Unmasked

by Alpaca_Queen



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Lemon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alpaca_Queen/pseuds/Alpaca_Queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless Deslay smut I'm posting before I have time to regret it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unmasked

The mask fell to the floor between them with a soft thump.

It was not the reddish, piercing eyes that held Hershel's attention so much as the fervent desire lurking in their depths, which made his heart stutter and his knees weaken. Though he felt his face becoming redder and redder as Descole leaned in, he found himself unable to look away from those ruby eyes. He knew, that in this moment, he was Descole's and Descole's alone. He would do anything the man wished of him. Letting loose a subconscious moan as their lips hesitantly brushed, Hershel desperately pushed himself up against Descole's body and tried not to think about the indecency of his actions. Taken aback by his initiative, Descole's mouth fell slightly open, and Hershel took this opportunity to slide his tongue into Descole's mouth. He jumped when he felt hands slide down to firmly grip his arse, pulling him even closer to Descole until every centimeter of their bodies was touching.

Falling back onto the bed, they broke apart, panting. Descole began kissing at Hershel's neck, and Hershel encouraged him by burying his hands in his hair and making little sounds of pleasure. As Descole unbuttoned his shirt and trailed down Hershel's stomach, a hand roughly palmed his erection. Descole felt his own bulge grow at this proof of Hershel's arousal from his touch and at the delicious whimper that slipped from Hershel's lips. He had never imagined the man's chestnut voice could serve such an erotic purpose. Longing to feel more skin, Descole shoved Hershel's trousers and pants down and firmly grasped his member, causing Hershel to release a broken, "De---ah!---Descole." 

"Call me Jean," he growled, nipping lightly at Hershel's ear. "Have you ever done this before?" he queried, his chest heaving between the words.

"Nothing like this," Hershel replied breathlessly as Descole continued playing with him.

"I'll be gentle then," he finished with a smirk, licking his fingers and reaching around to prod at Hershel's entrance. Hershel gasped at the foreign feeling, his discomfort being backed by a burning pleasure in his gut. Adding a second finger, Descole scissored Hershel, opening him more and searching for that special spot that would drive him beyond coherency.  
"Ah! Jean!"

There it was. A grin slowly spread across his face as he relentlessly pounded the spot, causing all manner of filthy noises to slip from Hershel's kiss-swollen lips. As he removed his fingers, Hershel whined and arched up off the bed before covering his face, crying in embarrassment at his body's responses. Wanting to see his lover's face, Descole pinned Hershel's hands above his head and gently kissed his tear-streaked cheeks before slicking up his member and pushing into Hershel in one thrust.  
Hershel gasped, clawing and Descole's back and pulling him in deeper. Descole took advantage of their proximity to initiate a searing kiss, his tongue once again tangling with Hershel's as he began thrusting, slowly and steadily. 

"P-Please.. more," Hershel groaned. Descole pounded harder and harder until the headboard was banging the wall with every thrust. Suddenly, he felt Hershel's walls tense around him as the man came with a cry. Hershel's debauched, ecstatic face drove Descole over the edge and soon he too was at his peak. After regaining his breath, he rolled to the side and tucked Hershel up against his body, kissing his forehead. They drifted off together, the sound of each other's gentle breathing lulling them to sleep.

Hershel woke up alone. He tried to stop the flood of disappointment he felt, reasoning that of course Descole wouldn't hang around in broad daylight, he was a wanted criminal for goodness sakes! Rubbing his sore back, he rolled out of bed, only to realize he wasn't covered in his blanket. It was an all-too-familiar-looking cape. He smiled and whispered to the sky, "I love you, Jean." And somewhere, under the same sky, a masked man whispered, "I love you, Hershel."


End file.
